Her Name is Fandes
by kpwolf12
Summary: What is Fandes Surana to do when she is plunged out into a blight-filled world she only learned about through books and vague childhood memories? Develop a penchant for lost causes and stick her nose where it doesn't belong, of course! (Alistair/Surana, with slight Cullen/Surana)
1. Come Little Children

A/N: This is the very first piece of Fanfiction that I've ever written for any series ever. I tried to balance it by adding the original in-game dialogue and some modifications, but the original feel for the scenes _should_ be the same. Maybe. So there will be spoilers for people that haven't played the game yet. I'm just going to go ahead and say that "Dragon Age Origins: The Fantom Edit - Human Noble Origin" is what inspired me to write this. C: I also attempted, and probably failed, to model this after the books; since I've been reading them over and over again lately. o_o Anyway, here's chapter 1: let me know if there's anything that I can do to make this a better read!

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age, and all of its associated characters, belongs to Bioware. I am not making a profit from this fanfiction; I am merely writing this because I love the series, and to hopefully improve my writing skills.**

**Chapter 1 – Come Little Children**

Cullen had attended a few Harrowings before, but this would be his first time as the executioner should things go awry. He wasn't looking forward to it, but this was his duty and he would not fail it. He had no idea who was taking their test now; only the Knight-Commander, First Enchanter, and the Templar retrieving said mage knew. Beads of sweat rolled down his head as he anxiously watched the stairs. It wouldn't be long now.

"Staring so intently at the stairs won't make the mage in question appear any faster, you know." Cullen jumped in surprise, and very nearly pulled out his blade until he realized that it was his close friend: Havel. The man let out a jovial laugh upon seeing his reaction, a strange sound to hear in the tension-filled chamber. At least it was tense for Cullen. "If it took you this long to acknowledge my presence, then you may find yourself dead before the night is done." Havel jokingly stated, but the worry in his grey eyes spoke volumes.

"I-I'm sorry, ser." Cullen replied quietly, almost too quietly for the older man to hear. Havel merely shook his head and ruffled Cullen's curly, strawberry-blonde hair.

"And I thought you only stuttered around... oh, what was her name? _Fanny?_" He teased with a smirk, the smile lines on his face becoming visible, despite the little lighting.

"H-Her name is Fandes!" Cullen corrected irritably. He had meant to say it quietly, but the idle chatter from the nearby group of Templars abruptly stopped. He heard one snicker, and the others gave him questioning looks. Cullen felt his face burn, and he attempted to look anywhere but at his fellows. He ultimately settled for the marble floor.

"I apologize, Cullen; I hadn't meant to embarrass you," Havel whispered. "I was only trying to take your mind off of this task that lay ahead of you. I know, from personal experience, that it isn't a pleasant one." Cullen finally tore his gaze from the floor, slowly bringing it to his friend. Havel was one of those few older, more experienced members of the Order that still hadn't held such harsh views of the mages and their magic, he hoped that he would feel the way his friend did when he was older.

"No, Havel, don't apologize. I appreciate that you're trying to lift my spirits a little before the Harrowing commences." He replied, smiling lightly and letting his posture relax. "But," he whispered, "_Please_ don't call her that." His gaze lowered back down to the floor when he heard his friend chuckle; his cheeks burning once again.

"I won't; I promise." Havel said, grinning and shaking his head in amusement. Cullen was about to join in on his friend's merriment, but all the color drained from his face when he glanced towards the stairwell. A young elven woman was looking around the Chamber. Her night-dress billowing out around her ankles, and her dark hair was out of its usual half ponytail, fanning around and above her shoulders in a subtle wave. Her large, pale blue eyes caught in his amber ones, and he forced himself to look down to the floor. It certainly was _very_ interesting to examine tonight, it seems.

_Oh, Maker…_

xx

Fandes involuntarily shivered as she followed her Templar guide up through the tower. She was still in her night-dress; since the man ushered her out of the female dormitories before she even had the chance to change. She kept stumbling in the dimly-lit halls while following him; unused to traversing the tower at this time of night. Was she being taken to her Harrowing? She wanted to ask him, but it was taking all she could to keep up with his brisk pace.

Her unasked question was answered when they finally arrived to the top floor. The Harrowing chamber was bright enough to see in; thanks to the full moon shining through large, stained glass windows that covered most of the walls. She spotted her mentor: First Enchanter Irving, as well as Knight-Commander Greagoir, Cullen, a few other masked Templars-probably recruits, and an older man with salt-and-pepper hair that she would often see standing near Cullen. The man she had been following quickly made his way to his fellows, patting Cullen's shoulder as he passed. Cullen looked almost pained, and he refused to meet her gaze when she gave him a small wave. He was probably the one tasked to execute her if she failed.

"Magic exists to serve man, and not to rule over him," She heard Greagoir say as he made his way to her. "Thus spoke the Prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin," He continued. "Your magic is a gift, but it is also a curse. For demons of the dream realm-the Fade, are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world." She nodded, she had heard this many times during her stay in the tower.

"This is why the Harrowing exists," She heard Irving say as he walked to her other side. "The ritual sends you into the fade, and there you will face a demon; armed with only your will."

"What happens if I cannot defeat the demon?" She didn't know why she asked that; she already knew the answer, and Cullen's slight fidgeting out of the corner of her eye further proved that.

"It will turn you into an abomination, and the Templars will be forced to slay you." Greagoir answered before motioning towards the center of the room. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand when she saw what it was: Lyrium. "This is Lyrium: the very essence of magic, and your gateway into the fade." She swallowed a lump in her throat. She had always been more sensitive to the effects of Lyrium than other mages; what would happen to her if she came near this amount? As if sensing her unease; Irving stepped closer and spoke quietly in her ear.

"Do not fear, child, this Lyrium is meant only for travel into the fade: it will not harm you." She nodded and sighed in relief, but the fear of her journey through the fade remained. "The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, but as we've succeeded, so shall you. Keep your wits about you and remember that the Fade is the realm of dreams: the spirits may rule it, but your own will is real." He finished just before Greagoir came back over.

"The apprentice must go through this test alone, First Enchanter." He said sternly. Fandes found herself frowning at the Knight-Commander, was it really so bad for her to get some advice before being thrown to the wolves? He gestured towards the well again. "You are ready." She nodded before giving one last look to Irving and Cullen, the latter now watching her intently. She cautiously walked towards the well, stiffening as she felt the trickle of magic flow across her skin. She took a deep breath before she plunged her hand into it: she saw a flash of blinding light, and then nothing.

xx

When Fandes came to, she found herself laying awkwardly on uneven ground; staring up at a green sky with floating islands. The edges of her vision were constantly blurred, and no amount of blinking or rubbing her eyes made it go away. Sighing, she got to her feet and dusted off her gown, but abruptly stopped when she realized that it looked as clean as it did before she arrived. She studied her surroundings a bit before spotting a narrow pathway out of the area she was in. She followed it; hoping that it would lead her to where she needed to go.

_"Someone else thrown to the wolves, as fresh and unprepared as ever."_ Fandes jumped at the sound of the ethereal voice, looking around frantically for the source until her gaze seemed to linger on a small rodent a few feet before her. _"It isn't right that they do this-the Templars; not to you, me, anyone." _The voice finished. Part of her wanted to climb the nearest tree-looking object and scream; she was terrified of rodents. While the other part of her wanted to communicate with it. What a strange place the Fade was.

"Right or not, I will succeed." She found herself saying, hopefully with more confidence than she felt. Her face fell when she heard bitter laughter in return.

_"You say that now, but so have many others before you. Look at me, look at what can happen,"_ It sighed. _"It's always the same, but it's not your fault. You're in the same boat I was, aren't you?"_ The rodent's appearance suddenly blurred and flashed before becoming a young man, with light brown hair and green eyes, no older than her. "Allow me to welcome you to the fade. You can call me, well, Mouse." She blinked, uncertain of what exactly she had just seen. Questions raced through her mind: was he a failed apprentice? If so, why was he wearing senior enchanter robes? And how did he change his shape?

"I-I'm Fandes," She replied uncertainly. "_You_ took the Harrowing?" She asked, probably with more suspicion than she had intended. Mouse seemed oblivious to her tone, however.

"It's fuzzy, that time before. They wake you up in the middle of the night and drag you to the Harrowing chamber, and then…" She nodded, that's essentially what happened to her. "The Templars kill you if you take too long, you see. They figured you failed, and they don't want _something_ getting out. That's what they did to me, I think. I have no body to reclaim, and it won't be long before you end up the same." She watched him carefully as he told her what happened: looking for any sign that he was spinning a tale to earn her sympathy. She saw none.

"How much time do I have before I end up… like you?"

"I don't remember: I ran away and I hid. I don't know how long." She furrowed her brow in annoyance; did he even try to pass this test if all he did was run and hide? Then a sense of panic washed over her: she shouldn't be wasting time by talking to… whatever this man was now, she needed to fulfill her task before this happened to her too.

"Then what should I be doing? I know I need to face and resist a demon, but I don't know where to find it, _if_ I should even be looking for it?" She stared at him expectantly: if he suggested that she run and hide…

"You would be a fool to just attack everything you see; what you face is powerful, cunning. It'll find you, whether you want it to or not." Fandes shuddered, despite herself, upon hearing the last part. There was far more to that phrase than he may realize. "I believe I passed by the area the demon will appear in. I'd suggest exploring a bit before heading there; the fade holds many secrets, if you know where to look… and if you can believe anything you see." Fandes nodded, her eyes brightening at the thought of exploration. She liked uncovering secrets.

Then she felt bad: she was being so suspicious of him, and here he was helping with her test. But he could also simply be trying to lead her astray. She hoped she was wrong. "Why are you helping me?" She blurted out. He looked taken aback for a moment by the sudden question, but quickly gathered himself before answering her.

"Because I don't want to see anyone else become like me." A simple answer, but Fandes was touched by it nonetheless. She felt her face heat up in shame from her suspicions of him, wishing she could disappear into the ground until it went away. But she didn't have time for that now. She nodded at him before continuing onto the path behind him; she wasn't surprised when he followed her as a mouse.

After fending off a few wisp spirits along the path, they eventually came upon an area of ground that was surrounded by flames. Mouse had said that this was where she would face her demon, and she could feel the heat from the flames reaching out for her; even from such a far distance. It felt like they were pulling her into a fiery slumber. She shook her head; suddenly feeling dizzy, and deciding it would be best to stay away until she was prepared. She was surprised that the fire didn't make her feel angry; since the area likely belonged to a Rage demon. Perhaps it was because she always felt drained when she was angry?

Further along the path another clearing came into view, this one containing a humanoid-looking spirit; surrounded by all sorts of weapons. _"Another spirit this way, it never seemed equal to its name to me."_ She heard Mouse say dismissively into her mind, to which she answered with a raised brow. Her eyes fell upon a staff among the racks of weapons: that would help immensely. The spirit acknowledged her presence as she approached: waving a hand for her to stand before him. At least she assumed it was a him. The spirit was wearing a full set of Templar armor, an odd choice, and it had a male physic from what she could tell.

"Another mortal thrown into the flames and left to burn, I see." Came its ethereal voice, but not from her own head; like Mouse's while he was transformed. She still needed to ask him how he did that. "Your mages have devised a cowardly test. Better to be pitted against each other to prove your mettle with skill, rather than to be sent unarmed against a demon." She frowned, that wasn't quite the whole picture.

"We're sent unarmed because they want to make sure we can resist a demon while we're at our weakest." The spirit was about to protest before she continued. "Not every battle is won with spells and blades; there are battles of will and spirit, and the more powerful demons often win in that regard. We are sent here for _those_ types of battles, usually, and if we win those then the other battles are not far out of reach." She felt a little silly for trying to explain these things to a being who may not understand them, but they seemed to have the effect she desired. The spirit was left completely speechless.

"Um, so, what kind of spirit are you?" She asked, hoping to learn more about the denizens of the fade while she was here. Very few mages have contact with benevolent spirits; she wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. The spirit remained silent however; she should have kept her mouth shut, but she hated leaving anything in the dark. She suspected that this spirit only heard about the Harrowing from mages that were taking the test themselves: probably biased and ultimately failures.

"I am Valor, a warrior spirit," It finally answered, snapping Fandes from her thoughts. "I hone my weapons in search for the perfect expression of combat." As if emphasizing this fact; the spirit gestured towards the racks of weapons. They all appeared to be in excellent condition, but she wasn't certain; knowing only very little of weapon maintenance. She found herself eyeing the staff from earlier.

"Would one of these weapons affect the demon?" She asked.

"Without a doubt, in this realm everything that exists is the expression of a thought. Do you believe these blades be steel? The staves be wood? Do you believe they draw blood? A weapon is a single need for battle, and my will makes that need reality," The spirit explained. "Do you truly desire one of my weapons? I will give one to you; if you agree to dual me first. Valor will test your mettle as it should be tested." Fandes stared wide-eyed at the spirit; glancing to the sheathed sword he had on his person. A dual? How would she defend herself against an armed opponent? She wasn't even properly dressed!

"And… what are the rules to this dual?" She asked, a sense of dread washing over her.

"We will fight until I deem you worthy of facing the demon. If I find you unworthy, then I will slay you. I trust those rules are simple enough to remember, mortal?"

"… Yes." She replied. If she couldn't face down this spirit, then how could she face the demon? If she were to die here: it would be better to fall against the Valor spirit than become an abomination.

"Then our dual beings now, fight with valor!" He exclaimed, unsheathing his blade.

Fandes quickly ducked out of the way of a thrust from his blade, stumbling a bit from the uneven ground under her bare feet. _If the blade doesn't end me, then the ground surely will._ She turned to face him and extended her hand out to him, a chill permeating the air at her fingertips. The spell hit, and she blinked numbly when she realized that the spirit's next strike was only inches away from her ear. She was also surprised that she managed to freeze him in place; normally it took all her energy to manage something to that effect. The Fade must be augmenting her magical abilities.

She squeaked when she heard parts of the ice cracking, she didn't have long before he'd break free entirely. She quickly clambered up a nearby ledge, and proceeded to cast a bolt of energy at him while he was still encased: which wasn't long. The Spirit's upper body broke free first, and he let out a grunt when the bolt crashed into his chest. Could they not pass through a Spirit's armor as it did for normal armor? She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she prepared another. _Perhaps I can cave in his breast-plate if I concentrate on one area…_

The spirit used the pommel of his blade to break the rest of the ice, then let out a war cry and charged towards her; sword held high. She fired the bolt: it hit the same place as before, slowing him down a bit, but he kept his charge up. She backed further up the ledge; his sword shouldn't be able to reach her there, and he wouldn't be able to climb the steep ledge in his heavy armor. Her eyes widened in shock when he suddenly stopped and threw his blade at her. She cried out in pain when the sword sliced a little into the right side of her waist; at least she had moved before it could run through her stomach.

She closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to will the pain away until this dual was done. She didn't have much time until the spirit would grab a spear, and she wouldn't be able to move fast enough to dodge another throw with her wound. She gritted her teeth and cast another ice spell at him as he was making his way towards the racks, only freezing his legs this time. She let out a hiss, the damned wound was interfering with her concentration! She stepped closer to the ledge in order to have a better shot with her next bolt; aiming for the weak spot she made in his armor.

And then the ledge crumbled under her feet.

She gasped, casting the bolt as she tumbled down the ledge. She hit her head on the way down, not hard enough to cause her to black out, but enough to make her head spin and throb. When her vision stopped swimming, she found herself lying on her back with her legs propped uncomfortably against the remainder of the ledge she just stood upon. Her side was aching very painfully now. Closing her eyes, she mumbled an incantation and channeled healing magic into her palm: pressing it against the wound. Once she was done, she rolled onto her stomach and observed the area.

She spotted Valor lying on his back nearby; it seems the bolt managed to crash into his helmet, apparently knocking him out. She wondered if he would consider this stroke of luck a victory for her? She also spotted Mouse nearby, in his human form, looking very amused by the entire situation. She shook her head and slowly climbed to her feet, frowning at the tear and bloodstain in her gown: that wouldn't be there when she woke up, right?

After a moment; Valor arose from his stupor, and Fandes watched in amazement as his dented armor, along with any possible wounds, disappeared as if they were never there. She cautiously walked over to him; uncertain if the dual was still in progress or not. He stood up and regarded her with a small bow of his head.

"I concede; your strength is sufficient to the task. The staff is yours."

She stared wide-eyed at him for a moment before returning the bow. "Thank you." She replied.

"May you find glory in all your achievements, mortal." She smiled lightly, grabbing the staff from the rack and testing its weight. It appeared to be made of iron and felt about as heavy as such. She nodded in approval and continued along the path, Mouse changing into a rodent once again to follow her. As they approached the next clearing; she spotted a strange bear-looking creature, discolored fur and sharp spikes jutting out of its hide.

_"Careful, there is another spirit here. Not the one hunting you, but still…"_ Mouse warned in her mind. She nodded, approaching the creature carefully. It appeared to be sleeping.

_"Hmm… so, you are the mortal being hunted? And the small one… is he to be a snack for me?"_ She heard a new voice enter her mind. _Evidently, it's not sleeping after all._

She felt the flow of magic as Mouse returned to his human form beside her. "I don't like this; he's not going to help us. We should go..."

The bear-creature let out a long sigh. _"No matter; the demon will get you eventually, and perhaps there will even be scraps left."_ Fandes shivered a bit; this must be a demon as well then, but what kind? It's not attempting to attack her, and it hasn't even moved since she arrived…

"Are you a spirit of… sloth?" She guessed.

It let out a low chuckle. _"Observant of you; indeed, I am a spirit of Sloth: a creature of the Fade, unlike yourself. Mortals are ever the visitors here. Still, you serve your function. Only the mortals like yourself are truly annoying."_

She blinked in confusion. "Mortals like myself?"

_"All mortals dream, but you are aware; a being with will, and the ability to draw power from across the veil. That is the power that most spirits… hunger for."_ The sloth demon shifted its position, lying lazily on its side now. _"I might be inclined for such a meal, myself; seeing the mortal world through your eyes and living inside your form. Luckily for you, I am disinclined to begin such a struggle."_

She rolled her eyes. "Lucky me."

_"Indeed. Now, what is it that you want from me?"_

"I need assistance against the demon." She replied.

The Sloth demon yawned. _"You have a very nice staff, why would you need me? Go and use your weapon, since you have earned it; be valorous."_

"He looks powerful, maybe even more powerful than the demon chasing after you," Mouse commented. "It might be possible that he could teach you to be like him." Fandes grew wide-eyed in excitement; perhaps she could adapt what she learned here into a spell outside of the Fade? She could explore the whole tower as a mouse and no one would be the wiser!

_"Like me? You mean teach the mortal to take this form? Why? Most mortals are too attached to their form to learn the change."_ The Sloth demon replied dismissively, causing her to visibly deflate. How would she detach herself from her form? What did that even mean? She supposed it didn't matter now; he isn't going to teach her. _"You on the other hand, little one, might be a better student. You've let go of the human form years ago."_

"I-I don't think I'd make a very good bear; how would I hide?" Mouse said hesitantly. What happened to him wanting to help her?

"But you could help me fight the demon…" She reminded him, and he sighed dejectedly.

"Alright, I'll try to be a bear; if you'll teach me." Mouse gave in, and she smiled at him in thanks.

_"That's nice, but teaching is so exhausting. Away with you now."_ The Sloth demon said, rolling over so his back was facing them.

Mouse sighed, "I told you he wasn't going to help us…" Fandes stared at them both in disbelief; sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Mouse wants to learn; teach him," She ordered. "We're _not_ leaving until you do." She stamped her foot down on the ground as if to emphasize the fact. But the effect was probably lost as she began hopping on her other foot, favoring the one she stamped with. _Where did that rock come from?!_

Sloth rolled back over to face them; completely ignoring her little scene. _"You wish to learn my form, little one? Then I have a challenge for your friend: answer three riddles correctly, and I will teach you. Fail and I will devour you both. The decision is yours."_

Fandes looked up, having rubbed her foot to the point where she could barely feel anything whatsoever with it. Riddles? How fun! "I accept your challenge, Sloth."

He looked surprised, or as surprised as a lazy bear-creature could look. _"Truly? This gets more and more promising…"_

After Fandes answered all the riddles correctly; Sloth kept his word and taught Mouse how to change into a bear. It wasn't an exact replica; he looked like your average bear, brown fur and claws. Well, at least as average as she could imagine; she never saw an actual bear before.

_"I've… never felt like this before; it's strange."_ He said while they made their way to the fiery clearing.

"Felt like what?" She asked, "Being a bear instead of a mouse? I imagine that _would_ feel different; they're exact opposites."

Mouse changed back to his human form, shrugging his shoulders and refusing to meet her eyes when she looked over at him curiously. They were almost at the clearing. "It's not just that." He mumbled. She was about to ask him to elaborate until an intense, almost physical wave of heat blew past her, forcing the air out of her lungs. She fell to her knees in shock, gasping for air that suddenly became much too thin to breathe.

_What…?_

Fandes looked up once she got her breathing under control, spotting a new figure in the middle of the clearing. That was likely the source of the wave. She glanced over at Mouse, noticing that the wave hadn't affected him nearly as bad as it did for her. _Well, spirits don't really need to breathe, I suppose. _She shrugged and stood up. And then she noticed that he moved a few feet away from her, still refusing to look at her. _What's he doing?_

"And so it comes to me at last."

Fandes spun her head towards the source of the voice. The figure from earlier now stood before her, its voice echoing in screams of rage inside her mind; even though that wasn't where it was coming from. _The rage demon…_ The thing looked like a blob of molten lava, with spindly arms and fingers, and eyes that glowed such a bright red that it hurt to look into them. She could see a trail of fire from where it slithered to meet her. Yes, slithered: it had no legs.

"Soon I shall see the world of the living through your eyes, creature. You shall be mine, body and soul." It declared. Fandes spared a glance over to Mouse: he was looking at her expectantly now. A sudden rush of pride came over her then: she wasn't going to let some lowly rage demon take control of her. And she wasn't going to let anyone down by failing.

"Then come and get me, if you can." She challenged, a grin working its way onto her face.

"Oh, I shall," it retorted, then turned to appraise Mouse; as if just registering his presence. "So, this creature is your offering, Mouse? Another plaything as per our arrangement?" Fandes blanched; slowly bringing her gaze to him. He was glaring at the demon now: was it lying, then?

"I'm not offering you anything; I don't have to help you anymore!" Mouse exclaimed defiantly.

"Aww, and after all of those wonderful meals we have shared; now suddenly the Mouse has changed the rules?"

"I'm not a Mouse now," Mouse stated, "And soon I won't have to hide. I don't need to bargain with _you_." He spat. Fandes had been numbly watching their exchange; uncertain how she should feel about Mouse at the moment. He was planning on betraying her here, but he changed his mind? Why? She broke from her thoughts as a wave of heat, far smaller than the one before, came over her. The demon appeared positively _livid _now. She tightened her grip on her staff; sensing a battle.

_"We shall see."_ How eerily calm it sounded.

Mouse, having changed into a bear without Fandes realizing, charged toward the demon. She retreated a ways, keeping her eye on the demon and Mouse both. Mouse was getting scorch marks singed into his fur wherever the demon clawed him. She wasn't certain if she could do this, but she pointed her staff towards him; summoning a thin layer of ice to settle into his fur and claws. She grinned triumphantly when he wasn't frozen solid or hindered by the spell, and when the demon began hissing as it came too close. Rage demons hated the cold.

After the demon realized what had happened: it glared daggers at her and it lurched over in her direction. She pointed her staff at it now, and a moment later; the demon was frozen in place. Mouse roared and charged towards the frozen rage demon like a battering ram: the contact shattering it into thousands of tiny shards. They won. Fandes released the ice coating from Mouse and he turned human again, looking exhausted and slightly charred, but otherwise unharmed.

"You did it… you actually did it!" He said excitedly, "When you came I'd hoped that maybe you might be able to… but I never really thought any of you were worthy!"

"It… sounds like your help was unusual, why?" She asked, uncertain what to think about him after their little adventure.

"You made me believe in you," He replied almost… admiringly? "You're a true mage; one of the few. The others? They never had a chance. The Templars set them up to fail, like they tried with you." She frowned at that; he just gave up on the other mages that passed through here? Did he even try to help them as he did her? "I… regret my part in it, but I had little choice."

"Anything to survive, I suppose, like an animal… or worse." She mumbled bitterly; shaking her head sadly. Then she realized something: why was she still here if she defeated the demon? "So, what now?" She asked.

"You've defeated a demon; you've completed your test. With time, you will be a master enchanter with no equal. And there may be hope in that for someone as small and as… forgotten, as me; if you want to help." He paused, seemingly waiting for her reaction. She chewed the idea over in her head: wouldn't he need a body to get out, since his was likely a skeleton now? The only way she could help would be to-

_Oh._

She gave him a hard stare, and nodded for him to continue. "You just need to want to let me in…"

He said it so innocently, too.

"I don't think that rage demon was my test." She declared, keeping her face deliberately neutral.

Mouse looked completely taken aback upon hearing that. "W-What? What are you… of course it was! What else is here that could harm an apprentice of your potential?" He then covered his face with his hands and started chuckling. "Oh, you _are_ a smart one…" He said, stepping a few feet away from her. "Simple killing is a Warrior's job." He began, his voice becoming deeper. Fandes widened her eyes in shock. "The real dangers of the fade are preconceptions… careless trust… _pride._"

And then he became something else.

Fandes stumbled back, disbelief mixed with fear etched into her features as she gazed upon the creature before her. A large, purple-colored creature now stood before her, her head barely reaching its waist. Shining scales and muscle lined its form, with large horns protruding from its head and elbows. Mouse was a pride demon: one of the more powerful and intelligent demons in the hierarchy. She could practically _feel_ the power radiating from him. She closed her eyes and took in a shaky breath. She resisted his attempts, but he could still force the possession if he wanted. _Am I going to die…?_

"Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests _never_ end."

And then he was gone.


	2. What Now

**Chapter 2 – What Now**

_I'm alive._

Fandes awoke in a bed she had slept in since she first entered the tower; staring numbly into the bunk above her. She felt exhausted and as stiff as a board; even though she was sleeping the entire time. It was likely a side effect from the Lyrium, and _maybe_ because she was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor the entire time she was in the Fade. She sighed and attempted to stretch her limbs, scowling at the effort. _They should put down some kind of mattress for us to lie on…_ _preferably with feathers._

"Are you alright?" Fandes blinked, just now registering that someone was sitting in a chair beside her bed.

"… _Jowan?_" She asked, flinching at the hoarseness in her voice. She slowly sat herself up, dangling her legs over the side of her bed and gestured him for some water. He looked at her worriedly before nodding, standing up and hurrying off; leaving her alone for the moment. Jowan was a childhood friend she made when she first arrived to the tower eleven years ago. He's been here a few years longer than she has; he was still an apprentice, and she found herself tutoring him on many occasions.

She snapped herself from her thoughts when he returned and handed her a cup. She smiled up at him gratefully and took a few sips; not wanting to choke herself by drinking it all at once, for she wanted to at the moment. He returned to the seat by her bed, his blue eyes seeming to bore into her as she waited for her voice to return. She never saw Jowan look at her like that before; he was always a bit… wimpy. And he usually kept his feelings to himself; if not his problems. He must desperately want to speak to her if he's looking at her this intensely.

"I saw Cullen carry you in this morning," He started, "I hadn't even realized you've been gone all night." Cullen carried her back? She felt her face flush slightly; she'd have to remember to thank him later.

"Of course you didn't realize; you live in the Men's dormitories." She stated, trying to keep her mind off of the Templar. "Unless," She smirked, "You snuck in here to peak last night?"

His whole face lit up like fire. "N-NO!" He shouted, quickly looking around to make sure no one heard them. Some of the female apprentices looked at him with raised brows, and he covered his face in shame. He was just too easy to tease. "As I said, I saw Cullen carry you in. I just _assumed_ you were gone all night," He explained, some of the red slowly dissipating from his pale skin. "Apprentices are taken in the middle of the night, or so they say." She nodded in conformation, frowning a bit at the memory. She wasn't woken up very gently.

"I… I heard that apprentices may never come back from Harrowings, is it really that dangerous?" He asked, "I know I'm not supposed to know, but we're friends: just one little hint, please?" She shifted uncomfortably; looking around to make sure no one was listening. She didn't want to break the Circle's rules after finally proving herself to them, but Jowan was too prone to worrying about these things. He might even fail if he doesn't know the slightest bit about it.

She sighed, leaning in close to speak quietly, "You know that demons are always ready to possess us, yes?" He nodded. "Well, this is a test that makes _certain_ that we have the will and strength to resist them." She finished, trembling as she remembered Mouse's-The Pride demon's, last words to her. _True tests never end, indeed._ Demons would always plague her; there would be no end.

Jowan nodded in understanding; at least Fandes hoped he understood. "I see: that makes sense." Then he sighed dejectedly. "Now you get to move to the nice mages' quarters upstairs; I'm stuck here and I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing." Ah, that must be what the look he gave her earlier was about.

"Any day now, probably. I could ask Irving about it, if you'd like?" She suggested, but a look of fear flashed in his eyes as he shook his head.

"No, I don't think he'd…" He sighed again. She forgot how often he sighed. "He knows you'd tell me. Besides, I've been getting the feeling that they don't _want_ to test me."

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Why wouldn't they want to test you? Maybe they're holding it off because of how negative you've been sounding lately? A demon could play on those doubts, you know." She said, trying to get him to stand up for himself for once. He'd be such a great mage if he'd had more confidence in himself. And maybe whined less. He looked stunned at what she just told him; she normally didn't say things like this to him, but she was terrified of what would happen to him if he didn't at least _try_ to be a better mage. "They might force you to become Tranquil if they see you like this…" She said hopelessly.

He suddenly stood up, scraping the chair against the floor from the movement. The entire dormitory became quiet. "_I'd rather die_," He seethed, "I have too much to live for, now." Then he turned on his heel and stormed toward the door, the other apprentices scurrying out of the way. "Oh," He abruptly stopped at the doorway, turning to face her; he looked drained. "Irving said he wanted to see you in his study." He slowly turned and headed out, leaving Fandes in a shocked stupor.

_Where did that come from?_

She shook her head, closing her eyes and running a hand through her dark hair. She had never seen Jowan act like that before; he was normally so passive. She placed her cup, now empty, on the table at the head of her bed, and carefully stood up. The stiffness from earlier was gone for the most part, but still: it wouldn't hurt to take things slowly. Once she was certain that she wouldn't fall flat on her face; she bent down and pulled out a drawer from underneath the bed. She grabbed an apprentice robe, since she didn't have her mage robe yet, a hair ribbon, socks, and slipper-shoes.

She quickly made her way towards a sectioned-off wall in the dorm, slipping behind it to an area where the girls would bathe, dress, and pretty themselves up in one of the several vanities. She saw one woman with long blonde hair sitting in front of one of the mirrors: she was nearly always there, from what Fandes could tell. Fandes didn't like changing in the presence of anyone; including other female apprentices, despite having to do it for so many years. She always felt like someone was burning a hole into her back, or front, depending. The rumors about Templars watching them _all the time_ didn't help much, either.

She shuddered and turned away from the woman, placing her things on a nearby bench. She belatedly remembered the cut she received in the Fade and glanced down the side of her gown, but nothing was there. She inwardly sighed, feeling silly for thinking that would come back with her. Only her spirit went into the fade, not her physical body. She was about to pull the gown over her head until she realized that the blonde woman was speaking to her. Fandes turned around to face her, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. They've never spoken to each other before.

"That Templar is going to hurt you one day." The woman said, staring at Fandes through the mirror's reflection with icy-blue eyes similar to her own, but smaller and far colder.

"Hurt me?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at the woman.

"I saw the way he was looking at you; when he carried you here. You may think his affections are cute, but eventually they will get to the point where you'll ask him to stop. And he won't, they never do." The woman said with such bitterness that Fandes took a step back. She remembered who this woman was now; she was an apprentice that was taken advantage of by a Templar a year or so ago. She ended up giving birth to a child from that union a few months ago; she hardly spoke to anyone after that. Fandes felt bad for her; she'll probably welcome the chance to be tranquil when the time comes.

"He's not like that…" Fandes said gently, suddenly wishing she would melt into the floor to get away from her appraising gaze.

"I believed that too." The woman replied sadly, a far-away look in her eyes now. She had said what she needed to.

Fandes frowned; she certainly wasn't expecting to be confronted about that subject when she went to change. She slowly turned back around, stripping down to her underclothes in an uncomfortable silence. What if the woman was right? Fandes didn't really know anything about Cullen, and he didn't really know her either. It felt like they had both been standing upon pedestals during the last year; only able to admire each other from afar. Templars and Mages were forbidden from a closer relationship than that, but that shouldn't stop them from at _least_ being friends.

Fandes decided she would try and get to know him a little better today.

She held out her robes; they were blue in color, with golden embroidery and heavily layered to protect the mage from Ferelden's cold land. And it was cold all year, even now in the middle of summer. It was always a pain to get all of it on, too. After she was dressed and her hair was tied in a half-pony tail; she briskly walked out of the sectioned area and out of the dorm. She was stopped several times through the first and second floors by people congratulating her for passing her Harrowing, she smiled and thanked them, but she also felt sad. Demons would always try to tempt her; this test would never end, and this was the only time she would be commended for her endurance.

She'll try to enjoy it while it lasts.

xx

Cullen was ordered to stand guard outside of the tutoring room on the second floor after he carried Fandes back to the dorms. He was so relieved to see her pass the Harrowing, in record time, at that; that he ended up telling anyone that passed by about it. This was a pretty lonely shift, so it was easy for him to spot her walking around the corner of the hall; her eyes were glazed over in thought and she didn't seem to realize he was there. He had been practicing what to say to her nearly the entire time after he carried her back to the dorms, but it all flew from his mind when she drew near.

He nervously cleared his throat. "F-Fandes," He called out, immediately breaking her from her stupor. Those large, elven eyes of hers blinked curiously at him, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. "I-I'm glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly." He said, and she smiled at him. He felt almost transfixed; she was pretty when she smiled like that.

"Thank you, Cullen," She said, stepping closer to him. "And thank you for watching over me while I took my test; I could ask for no better than you." He was taken aback by that: he thought she'd be angry at him for that, if anything.

"You aren't angry?" He asked; then widened his eyes a bit when he realized he didn't stutter that time. "I… really didn't relish the thought of driving a sword through you…" He added sadly.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not angry," She said, "I know you didn't have a choice, and I respect that you'd keep your word to the Order than let your feelings keep you from doing so."

His eyes widened even more, now. _Does she know? _He should have known she'd see his interest in her; she's not stupid. And he's not subtle, or so his friends tell him. "The Order saved my life," He started, not entirely certain why he was telling her this. "I was abandoned at the Chantry when I was very young, and when I was old enough; the Order gave me a home and a purpose. Something I never had, but always wanted, for a very long time." He finished, eyeing her for her reaction. He never told anyone besides Havel about his background.

She nodded, looking up at him thoughtfully. "I was taken here soon after I turned eight years old in the winter. My father sliced open his leg, and no one would heal him," She started, looking at him sadly. "When I tried to stem the blood flow, something came over me; I felt so desperate. Healing magic poured from my palms, and I closed his wound. But the effort left me drained, and I succumbed to exhaustion moments later. Later on; I found myself being carried by a Templar, with Denerim a little dot in the distance."

Cullen never knew how she came to the tower; many rumors circled around her from being the First Enchanters personal apprentice. Some say she burned down a Chantry, and was brought to the Tower kicking and screaming until her guides dumped her head into the nearly frozen Lake Calenhad. That was also apparently how her eyes became such a pale blue, since Calenhad's waters are said to be magical. While others say she froze a revered mother in place for calling her something very profane. He didn't believe these rumors, but he was always too shy to actually ask her for the truth.

"I hated it here at first, but the tower became part of my home; rather than a new one. And the few people close to me I see as a family: Irving as a father, Jowan as a brother…" She finished, appearing bashful about expressing her views of the Tower to him. Most mages don't feel this way at all about the Tower, from what he could tell. That was probably why most of them thought she was so mysterious; she was afraid of being subjected to their scorn, so she kept to herself. She always seemed to speak her mind about most things, but her history and personal views were her own. And now his too, apparently.

"The other Templars accepted me right away," He started, causing her to look back up at him. "But… you were the first and only mage to speak to me as another person, and not just one of the many other Templars here." Hmm, that sounded far better in his head.

She smiled bashfully at him, and she moved closer to him again. His eyes widened at their proximity; only one more step and… "And you're the first Templar to treat me like a person, like a lady; rather than just a walking curse. Or a knife-ear." She teased the last bit out.

He felt his entire face heat up. "We certainly are very different from our peers…" He whispered. It suddenly became difficult for him to breathe. He needed to get away from her. Now. "But… I still serve the Chantry and the Maker, this is close enough." He tried to sound neutral, but the look she had on her face told him otherwise.

She looked him in the eyes then. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't, too." She replied, stepping away from him sadly. "But whether it is the Maker that wills it or you: I will leave you alone." She gave him a respectful bow: one a peasant might give a king, then turned to leave. He didn't want her feeling like that; that he had complete command over her, and he found himself about to do the most regrettable and wonderful thing in his entire life.

He gently squeezed her arm before she stepped out of his reach, and when she turned to question him; he crashed his lips onto hers.

He didn't how or why it happened, but it was happening, and she was returning it with a fervor. She had her eyes closed, so he closed his too; relishing in the feeling of her lips on his. He felt her hands tangling into his curly hair, and he had his hands gently pressed against her waist. He wished he could tear his armor off so he could feel closer to her than they already were. But then it came to him: he shouldn't be doing this with her. He had a duty to protect the mages, protect her, and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it if he felt this way about her. This was wrong.

_This is wrong!_

He abruptly pulled away from her, refusing to see the look on her face and in her eyes. She deserved to be with a man that wouldn't break his vows and disregard his honor, but he couldn't even tell her that.

So he ran.

xx

_What… happened?_

Fandes thought as she watched Cullen's retreating form with wide eyes. He was running toward the stairs leading further up the tower; she wasn't permitted to go farther than the second floor right now. Running down the hall in heavy plate armor caused several mages and Templars both to poke their heads out of the various doorways, at least no one had seen them a few moments ago. And she wasn't even certain how they came about doing _that._

She sighed and grazed her fingertips where he kissed her. She hadn't meant for that to happen, at all. It was like she was being drawn towards him; she hadn't even realized how close they were until she was nearly touching him! She _did_ catch herself near the end, though; so she stepped away. But she had already crossed the line. _What an idiot I've been…_ She thought sadly. He'd probably never speak to her again; he might even transfer to a different tower to be away from her. _That's what I get for trying to jump from my pedestal to his; I'm just part of the crowd now._

She stood there for a few more minutes, then briskly began making her way to Irving's study. She had very nearly forgotten that he summoned her. When she arrived; she came upon an argument between her mentor and Greagoir. A part of her feared that they were arguing about her and Cullen, but quickly realized they were arguing about an apparent war in the south. What war? She also spotted a spectating dark-skinned man-Rivaini?-in chain-mail armor, with a gryphon emblazoned onto his sleeve. Wasn't that the symbol of the Grey Wardens?

She took a deep breath and stepped in; the dark-skinned man spotted her immediately, and regarded her with a curious expression. "Irving," He called, effectively cutting through the argument. Both of the men looked at him. "Someone is here to see you." He said, pointing at her.

She gave them a small wave. "You called for me?"

Irving's eyes brightened upon seeing her. "Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle: come child." He gestured for her to stand before him, so she did just that.

"This is…?" Duncan asked, looking to Irving for conformation. Was Irving talking about her before the argument came up?

Irving nodded. "Yes; this is Fandes." She heard the pride in his voice and looked down bashfully.

"Well, Irving, you are obviously busy. We will continue this later." Greagoir stated as he briskly walked out of the study.

"Of course," Irving said, waving him off. "Now, where was I… oh yes! Fandes, I'd like you to meet Duncan: head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden." Irving said, gesturing towards Duncan.

She bowed down low to him. "Pleased to meet you." she said, rising back up.

"Likewise," Duncan replied, "Irving has told me a lot about you."

"Oh?" She asked, raising a brow. "Nothing bad, I hope?"

She heard Irving chuckle. "Of course not, child." He paused. "Duncan is recruiting Mages to join the war brewing in the south: in Ostagar."

"Who are we fighting?" She asked.

"The Darkspawn horde grows larger each passing day," Duncan stated, his face growing grim. "The spells a mage wields are invaluable against large groups of mindless Darkspawn."

_Darkspawn?_ She blanched; if there's an army of them in the south, then that could only mean… "Has… a Blight begun?" She asked uncertainly. The look on Duncan's face looked even graver than before.

"I believe so." He answered.

Irving, having seen how distressed she was at this news, spoke up. "Duncan, you worry the poor girl with talk of Blights and Darkspawn; this is a happy day for her." She smiled gratefully at him, but the news still worried her.

Duncan nodded. "We live in troubled times, my friend."

"We should seize moments of levity, _especially _in troubled times," Irving replied, turning his attention back to her. "The Harrowing is behind you; your phylactery has been sent to Denerim, you are officially a mage within the Circle of Magi." He congratulated her.

She nodded, "Thank you, First Enchanter."

Duncan spoke up then. "I'm sorry, but what is this Phylactery?" He asked.

"Blood is taken from all apprentices when they first come to the tower, and is preserved in special vials." Irving answered.

"So they can be hunted if they turn apostate." Duncan said, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

"We have few choices," Irving argued, "The world views the gift of magic with suspicion and fear; we must prove that we can handle our power responsibly." He gestured at her. "You have done this, and at such a young age," He said fondly, then walked over to his desk and pulled a few items from the top. Fandes spotted books on Blood magic underneath, why were they in here and not on the library's shelves? Irving now stood where he had before, handing her the bundle he grabbed from his desk. "I present you your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them."

She felt herself grin in excitement; she loved receiving new things! "Thank you again, First Enchanter."

Irving smiled at her in response. "It goes without saying that you shall not discuss the Harrowing with those who have not undergone the rite." He said sternly, and she gave a small nod.

_Too late for that… sort of._

"Now, take your time to rest, or study in the library; the day is yours."

She nodded, looking forward to having some time to herself for a while; hopefully. "I will do that."

Duncan glanced between Irving and the door. "I will retire to my quarters." He said.

Irving nodded; then looked at her. "Would you be so kind as to escort Duncan to his room, child?"

She nodded, bowing before her mentor. "It would be my pleasure."

Then she and Duncan began making their way down the Tower's halls towards the Guest quarters. She clung her Mage gear to her chest; eager to start wearing it. She glanced back to Duncan: he was walking a little ways beside her, and she wondered what she could learn about the outside world from him. He thanked her for the escort when they reached the room, and she turned to face him.

"It's no problem, I've always done what Irving's asked of me." She said, staying near the door. "I'm sorry, but could I trouble you with a few questions before I leave you alone?"

Duncan nodded at her, setting his things on the edge of the bed. "Go ahead."

She thought for a moment, realizing he would probably be too preoccupied with his duties to tell her about the gossip going on outside. So she settled for questions concerning the war. "How many mages have joined in the south?"

"Seven. King Cailan has allowed me to seek more here personally."

Fandes very nearly gaped. "_Seven?!_ That's quite a few! How many more do you need?"

"I was hoping to have at least two or three in every perimeter. As I've said before; magic is very useful in combating the Darkspawn." He answered.

"Do… do you think I could join?" She wasn't really certain why she asked that; she wasn't relishing the thought of living under harsh conditions and fighting monsters whose very touch could kill her. But she didn't want to be in the tower at the moment, either. And somehow, fighting monsters was preferable. _I need to straighten my priorities one of these days…_

"I don't know," Duncan said, eyeing the expression on her face. "Do you?"

She thought about it for a moment. "… Yes, I believe I could help."

"Then I will speak to Irving later about it." Duncan replied. She nodded, her curiosity sated, and turned to leave the room.

She made her way to where the Mages' quarters were located, and she found a Tranquil man motioning her towards one of the sectioned off areas of the room. At least it was more privacy than the apprentice dorms…

"These are to be your new quarters, Fandes," He stated in that monotonous voice that all Tranquil spoke in. "The Tranquil will move your belongings here this afternoon; go on and make yourself comfortable." He finished, leaving her alone. The bed caught her eye first: it had so many blankets and pillows stacked onto it that she was certain she would never feel cold at night again. A vast improvement over the simple bunk bed she slept in. She had her own vanity and wash basin now too. And finally, she spotted a large oak desk off in the corner, with an inkwell and a feather pen sitting on its surface.

She quickly changed into her new robes; they were like her old ones, but dyed yellow rather than blue. What a shame: blue was her favorite color. She put the ring on her thumb, and placed the staff against the wall, then she promptly plopped herself onto the bed. It was _much_ more comfortable than her previous bed; she could just fall asleep right there…

"There you are, Fandes. Are you busy?" She heard Jowan say somewhere behind her. She rolled her eyes and moaned into the pillows; she wasn't even in there for five minutes!

"Can I pretend I am?" She asked, her voice muffled.

"Very funny," he sighed. "Please, Fandes, this is serious. I need you to come with me." He actually sounded more serious than whiny, this time, and oddly quiet. Intrigued; she lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at him. Then raised a brow upon seeing his dark hair: it looked like someone was ruffling it not too long ago. Or he just woke up. Both explanations made it very difficult for her to suppress a grin, but she managed.

"Very well." She said eventually, rolling over and sitting up. She stretched her back a bit before standing and reaching over for her staff: she had a feeling she would need it. "Let's see what personal crises you need help out of this time." He rolled his eyes at her and she followed him out.

"Do you remember what we discussed this morning?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, of course; you were so unlike yourself that I thought a Blood Mage compelled me. Or you." She meant it as a joke, but his posture suddenly became very rigid, and he remained silent for the rest of their walk. Eventually, they reached the Tower's Chantry, an interesting choice for privacy, surely. She leveled a questioning stare at him, but he kept going and finally stopped in one of the corners: near a red-haired initiate. Of all people.

"We should be safe here," Jowan started, sounding a bit calmer now. "Fandes, do you remember when I told you that I met a girl a few months ago?" She nodded, eyeing the initiate beside him. "Well… this is Lily." He gestured toward the red-haired woman bashfully.

"My condolences, Lily." She said with mock sympathy.

Jowan slapped his hand to his forehead and shut his eyes. "Very funny_._" He moaned out irritably. Fandes couldn't suppress her smirk this time, but it quickly fell when she realized what this meant for them both. Initiates were forbidden to enter relationships: Fandes wouldn't be able to help them with this, besides either keeping their secret or advising them to split up. She thought of Cullen then, and a deep frown settled upon her face.

_No, I can't do that._

"You know being with an initiate is forbidden, right?" She said worriedly.

"Then you can see why we wish to keep it a secret." Lily replied, and Jowan looked at Fandes pleadingly.

"I won't tell anyone, your secret is safe with me." She said, effectively answering Jowan's unasked question when his face lit up.

"Thank you, I knew you'd stand by me!" He exclaimed, then gave Lily a look that said, 'I told you so.' So Jowan's girlfriend didn't trust his childhood friend; the one that's helped him with everything he's ever asked of her? Great.

"I… trust there's more to you bringing me here than this? I'm happy for both of you, but you could have told me this back in my quarters." Fandes said, remembering his odd behavior from this morning and earlier.

"Yes… I discovered that I'm going to be made Tranquil," He stated sadly, but then a look of anger came over him. "They'll take everything that I am from me: my dreams, hopes, fears, my love for Lily; all gone!"

Fandes' face turned grim instantly. "How did you find this out?"

"I discovered the document for the rite on Jowan on Greagoir's desk, and Irving had signed it." Lily answered

Fandes looked down, slowly absorbing this information. "…Why would they do this to you?"

"There's a rumor about me being a Blood Mage," Jowan answered. "They think that making me a Circle Mage will endanger everyone."

She frowned in thought. She had the tendency to tease Jowan on a wide variety of topics: was being a Blood Mage one of them? Probably; knowing her mouth. _But maybe it's a different reason?_ She thought, remembering that he said he met Lily a few months ago; if he was sneaking around to meet her, then… "They probably saw you sneaking around to meet Lily and they assumed it was something malicious." She offered, and then frowned. "But I suppose it doesn't matter: you'll both be punished, regardless. What did you intend to do about this?"

Jowan hesitated: the look on his face told her she wouldn't like whatever he was planning. "I need to destroy my Phylactery," He began, looking her straight in the eye. "Without it; they can't track me down." She blinked at him; slowly processing what he just told her.

"Give us your word that you will help, and we will tell you what we intend." Lily finished. Fandes blanched. Break into the Phylactery chamber? They could all be killed if they're caught! And what about after? How were they going to escape past a giant locked door; with Templars guarding it, and reach the other side of the lake besides swimming? She wanted to ask before agreeing to this foolish plan: as much as she cared for Jowan, this may be pushing it.

"I… need some time to think." She finally replied, and they both looked at her disappointedly.

"We understand," Lily said softly. "This isn't something small we're asking, after all."

Fandes nodded. "I'll be back soon with my answer." She said, turning and leaving the couple alone in the Chantry.

She needed to see Irving.


	3. The Unforgiven

A/N: So this chapter was _supposed_ to be in chapter 2, but I want all the chapters to be around equal length. And this one turned out to be my longest one so far. xD I don't really like how I wrote Fandes in this chapter: I tried to convey her conflict with her duty to the circle and duty to her friend in this chapter, but I don't think I did it too well. Especially with the jump to Cullen's POV near the end. I just didn't want to write them going through the repository. _

**Chapter 3 – The Unforgiven**

Fandes quickly made her way to Irving's office: there had to be some way she could save Jowan without breaking him out of the tower. She very nearly crashed into a few mages as she made haste down the halls, muttering out apologies and attempting to quell her panicked thoughts all at once. When she finally reached the door to Irving's study; she took several minutes to calm herself. _Calm down! He can't see how distressed you are about Jowan's situation! _She took a deep breath and entered, finding the First Enchanter sitting at his desk and reading a grimoire bound in dark leather.

She cleared her throat anxiously, gaining his attention as he looked up in shock at her quiet entrance. "Forgive me for not knocking; First Enchanter," She apologized sheepishly. "But something has been troubling me…"

He put the grimoire down and motioned for her to stand before him. She noticed that he looked troubled too; when she was close enough. She also got a closer look at the grimoire he was reading: it was pitch black leather, something she had never seen before on other grimoires, and it had an ominous, leafless tree on the cover. She had never seen it before. _I wonder where he got that? _She wondered, and then quickly discarded the thought. She shouldn't get too distracted; she was here for a reason.

"Jowan's been here longer than I have," She began, attempting to sound casual. "Will he be put through his Harrowing soon? He's been having all sorts of trouble concentrating on his studies and sleeping at night, from how worried he is about it." She finished. It _was_ partly true, at least.

Irving, however, narrowed his eyes at her. "Jowan will be put through through the test when he is ready."

She pressed her mouth into a thin line. "Jowan is ready _now._ If you wait any longer, he might not-"

"Fandes," he interrupted, and she closed her mouth with an audible click. "I know you are worried about your friend, but it is not your place to decide his fate."

She let out a long sigh; leveling a glare towards the floor. She could tell Irving the truth and let Jowan become Tranquil, and Lily… she had no idea what happened to Initiates who scorned their vows. Jowan would never forgive her for betraying him—at least until he's Tranquil—but he'd still be alive; and so would she. But condemning her friend over a rumor… She brought her gaze back up to Irving: he was still waiting for her response. "Are… the rumors true?" She asked.

It took him a moment before he realized what she was talking about, and his face softened in sympathy. That didn't bode well. "Yes." He answered.

Fandes couldn't mask her panic any longer; Irving would not condemn Jowan unless he was absolutely certain of this. "Please!" She exclaimed, her voice nearly on the edge of breaking down. "There must be a mistake! Jowan has been sneaking around to meet with an initiate the past few months, maybe someone thought-!"

He placed his hands on her small shoulders then, effectively ending her pleas. "Hush," he said soothingly to her. "I've known about the initiate for a while now; she is not the basis for these claims." She stared wide-eyed at him, and he gave her a moment to calm herself further before speaking. "Greagoir said he had an eyewitness testimony to Jowan practicing the forbidden art," He explained. "And am I to assume that you have not seen the palms of his hands or his wrists at all, recently?"

Blood mages needed either their blood or the blood of others to power their spells, from what Fandes understood of it. She narrowed her eyes in thought, trying to remember the last time she had seen Jowan's hands: she _did_ recall seeing a deep cut on his palm the previous week, but he told her that he received it from mishandling the silverware. Was that a lie?

_No…_

She shrugged Irving's hands from her shoulders and stepped away, keeping her gaze to the floor. "He… there was a gash on his palm, last I checked." She managed, her voice shaking.

Irving nodded, seeming to expect that. "He will be made Tranquil soon." He said, and she closed her eyes: feeling a wave of despair wash over her, and she resisted the urge to fall to her knees. "…Is there anything else that you needed to tell me?" He asked carefully. She could hear it in his voice; he wanted to know if she knew anything else.

"No." She answered, her face going blank when she looked back up at him. "I… think I'll go preoccupy myself for now; thank you, First Enchanter."

He frowned at her, but nodded in understanding. "Alright, I'll be here if you need anything." He said as she turned to leave. "And try not to focus too much on Jowan's fate: you'll both learn to accept this with time." She felt herself tense as she closed the door behind her.

Fandes really wanted to scream at the moment, and yank on the collar of someone's—_anyone's_—robes, and demand that they tell her that her world wasn't falling apart. How long has this been going on? Why didn't anyone—or Irving, rather—tell her that this was going on behind her back? Why was this even _happening?!_ This would be a fate worse than death for Jowan, and she might not be able to move on with that knowledge in her heart.

Jowan was whiny and annoying, but he was still her friend. She didn't know why he started practicing this forbidden art, but she knew, with absolute certainty, that he wasn't evil. He wasn't killing anyone, or releasing demons into the tower, or cackling like a mad-man and twisting an imaginary mustache whilst doing so. For the first time in her life: she would spit in the Templars faces and help her friend from this fate, because she _knew_ they were wrong this time. With a renewed sense of purpose; she made her way back to the Chantry to give Jowan and Lily her answer.

Fandes would betray the trust that Irving and the Circle have placed in her; in order to save her friend from a fate worse than death.

The hallway between Irving's study and the Chantry was strangely empty now; not a mage or templar in sight. Fandes slowed her stride into a quiet pace: the silence was unsettling after what she just went through. When she turned the final corner near the Chantry door; she felt someone give her forearm a firm squeeze. She was so absorbed into her thoughts and keeping quiet that she didn't even notice the templar standing guard there. _Why do the templars insist that their armor blend in with the walls?_ And this wasn't just any templar; it was Havel: Cullen's friend, and mentor of sorts.

She stared at him with wide, questioning eyes. His face appeared hard as stone; it was a polar opposite from his usual soft expressions. "Fandes," He began, his voice taking on a commanding tone that she'd never heard from him before. "I'd suggest staying in your quarters until this afternoon; it will be quite… busy in the halls soon."

_He's talking about Jowan. _She realized, her face turning grave. "I understand, but I have very important errands to run until then." She lied, hoping to get underway with Jowan's plan _much _sooner than she could have anticipated.

His grip on her arm only tightened. "Then you'd best hurry." He warned, and then let her go. "If whatever it is that you're doing _somehow_ hurts someone, Fandes; I'll make certain that justice is done. Personally." She stared wide-eyed at him again; she'd never seen him act like this before. Did this have something to do with Cullen? Did Havel have something against Blood mages and people who associate with them? She rubbed her arm gingerly, nodding at him warily before heading further down the hall and into the Chantry. She wasn't certain, but she believed she saw his expression turn to sorrow when she turned away from him. Why were people surprising her so much today?

Fandes scanned the room for anyone new, but she could only see Jowan and Lily in the same corner from before she left. She looked up at the statue of Andraste near the center wall and briefly wondered if she should pray for good fortune for what she would soon be doing, but she decided against it. She was never very comfortable with these sorts of things, and people would be arriving soon for the morning chant, anyway. They needed to get underway.

"Fandes? Are you going to help us?" She heard Jowan ask pitifully when she made her way over to him and Lily. His gaze suddenly shifted to her arm when she drew near. "What happened to your arm?"

Fandes belatedly realized that she was still cradling her sore forearm and quickly released it, resisting the urge to flinch from the movement. She was probably going to find a bruise there, later. "I accidentally rammed it against the doorway on my way in," She said dismissively. "But never mind that. I've decided to help you with your plan." The joy and relief on his face was palpable; she regretted not saying yes when he initially asked her. But then she wouldn't have discovered that she had a mind of her own, now would she?

"But you'd better make it quick; it will start filling up in here soon." She cautioned, gesturing behind her and towards the benches for emphasis.

They both nodded in agreement. "The phylactery chamber is protected behind two locked doors," Lily began, "The first requires a harrowed mage, and a templar with a passcode to enter." Fandes nodded, that explains why they need her help. "The second door requires a key from both the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander to unlock, but we cannot get both of those keys away from them without notice," She continued. "So we will be using a rod of fire to melt the locks off, and we'll enter that way."

Fandes nodded once again. Apprentices cannot commission for such an item; that was another reason they needed her, then. "I'll go and retrieve it alone. It'll be less suspicious than all three of us going."

"That is a good idea," Lily agreed. "Good luck; our prayers go with you."

Fandes smiled in thanks, then turned and left the Chantry. She made her way to the library first; the tranquil in charge of the stockroom might ask why she would need a rod of fire, and she didn't want to appear hesitant on finding a reason. When she arrived, she noticed that the library was nearly as desolate as the rest of the second floor. That was unsettling: there were nearly always at least ten or fifteen mages in here during all hours of the day. Now there were only about four, and two of them were senior enchanters.

She also spotted Duncan browsing the shelves near the center of the room. He noticed her entrance right away and waved for her to come over. She walked over without hesitation; it'd be odd for her to outright ignore him. "Hello again, Duncan. Are you enjoying the library?" She asked casually.

"I am, indeed. The Circle of Magi has so many wonderful books at its disposal." He said, and she agreed. Once she learned how to read, she'd spend nearly all of her free time in here reading. In fact; she read most of the books on the shelf behind Duncan: they were all information on Ferelden. History, myths, animals…

"Were you looking for anything in particular?" She asked, gesturing toward the shelves. "I've read most of these; I could probably help you find something."

He shook his head. "That is kind of you to offer, but I'm fine." He studied her for a moment. "You seem preoccupied, might I ask what you're doing?"

"I was going to study some books on magical objects before you called me over," She replied. "But that can wait: they aren't going anywhere. Besides, you looked like you wanted to talk?"

He nodded. "Yes, I suppose I do," He said. "If you might indulge me, I would like you ask you about the Circle."

Fandes looked at him thoughtfully. She didn't really know too much about the Circle, she was always more interested in the spells and books than the politics. "I'll tell you what I can."

"Mages like yourself must have an opinion on current affairs such as the War. As you know, the king is gathering an army."

"I believe mages could be very useful in this war." She said, remembering Duncan's earlier comments on magic against the Darkspawn.

"You don't fear the power at your disposal, do you? It is dangerous, yes, but necessary."

"I trust in my abilities, as long as I'm careful." She stated, although she wasn't too sure on how she would cast spells at enemies without accidentally hitting her allies.

Duncan smiled. "Irving has taught you well, I see. Now, I'll leave you to your business; I'm sure you have better things to do than chat with an old man."

"I find chatting with old men to be very enlightening!" She pouted. "But I'll leave you alone, perhaps we can chat more later? If you're staying in the tower for a while, that is." She asked. Upon his nod of conformation, she left for her search of a book on rods of fire.

The shelf she was looking for had two mages in front of it: Niall, a tutor she shared with Jowan when they were younger, and Senior Enchanter Torin. They appeared to be having a conversation on the Circle's fraternities. _Politics._ She inwardly groaned. "Hello, Senior Enchanter Torin. And hello, Niall." She greeted as she approached them.

"Hello, Fandes. Congratulations on your harrowing last night." Niall replied.

"Yes, congratulations. I hear you passed it in record time." Torin added in.

Fandes smiled in thanks to both of them. "I apologize for interrupting your conversation, but I needed retrieve a book from that shelf there." She said, pointing at the shelf behind Niall. He nodded and moved out of the way for her.

"It's no problem," Torin said as she fingered through the books. "The fraternities aren't worth getting worked up over, anyway."

She finally found the one she was looking for, and looked over to both of them. "I see. Well, I'd best be on my way to study this." She waved the book at them as a farewell, and took off for a secluded table in the corner of the library.

Once Fandes was satisfied with what she learned of the rods; she returned the book to the shelves, and then made her way to the nearby stockroom. Upon arriving; she spotted the tranquil she would need to speak to: Owain. He noticed her staring at him and he beckoned her over.

"Welcome to the Circle's stockroom of magical items. My name is Owain, how may I assist you?" He greeted her in that monotonous voice that all tranquil spoke in.

"I need a rod of fire." She said simply, making small-talk with a tranquil would be a little too off-putting for her right now. She'd probably say something that'd give her away immediately, since she had the tendency to speak honestly with them. Maybe because they had no reason to ridicule her?

"Rods of fire have many uses, why do you require this particular item?" He asked her, snapping her from her thoughts. He had apparently grabbed a small board, a paper, and a pen while she wasn't paying attention.

"I missed breakfast this morning: I need a rod of fire because I don't know any decent enough fire spells to start a cooking fire." She explained, inwardly flinching at how ridiculous that sounded.

Owain merely nodded, writing something—probably what she just told him—down. "I'll put that down as 'personal use'." He stated, handing her the paper once he was finished. "Please have a Senior Enchanter sign this form, and then I will give you the rod."

Fandes glared thoughtfully at the paper. _That might complicate things a bit…_ She looked back up and nodded at him. "I'll be back soon." She said, then left to find someone that would actually sign this for her.

She had a few choices: Irving would be who she would normally ask, but her un-expectantly asking him to sign a form for a magical object would only make him more suspicious of her than he already was. Torin might be plausible, but then she remembered that other mages and apprentices that learned under him said he often needed long and detailed reports on whatever he assigned them; that'd probably apply to the form too. Leorah was a new Senior Enchanter, and Fandes didn't know her well enough to ask for a signature. _That leaves Senior Enchanter Sweeney, then._ Sweeney was one of the Senior Enchanters she saw in the library: he was pretty old and he was growing more forgetful by the day. She felt terrible for using that against him.

Having figured out who she was going to see; she made her way back to the library with the form and pen in hand. She found Sweeney where he was before: sitting in a lounge chair in the quietest corner of the library. She walked up to him, and waited silently for him to acknowledge her presence. But after several moments she opted to clear her throat to gain his attention. He appeared to have been napping.

"W-What?" He asked groggily, rubbing and squinting his eyes at her. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met. Are you new to the Circle?"

She blinked in confusion at him. "I'm a newly harrowed mage, but I've been here for most of my life."

He leaned forward a bit and studied her for a moment longer. "Oh, Fandes! I apologize; these old eyes are starting to go, along with my years." Indeed. The man had a few wisps of white hair left; he was nearly covered in wrinkles and looked like he would crumple to the floor if he so much as moved.

"Everyone makes mistakes, and you also just woke up. I don't blame you for not recognizing me."

He smiled at her. "You are too kind. I'm old and about to fall apart, nothing in the world can change that."

She frowned sadly at him. "You should be resting more, not be here in the library." She said.

"But I enjoy the library; these books are old friends of mine. And it's quiet, when you're my age you'll learn to appreciate the quiet," He said, and paused to look her over again. "Now, did you need something?"

She nodded, holding up the form and pen. "Could you sign this for me, please?"

"What's this?" He asked as she handed it to him. "Rod of fire? I remember the male mages I mentored asking for some of these. Turns out they were burning holes into each other's trousers! And one even burned peep holes into the female apprentices' dormitories!" He laughed, keeling over in his seat. Fandes found herself laughing along with him, but the joy drained out of her quickly when she realized how much more serious her use for the rod was.

"You aren't up to any such nonsense, are you?" He asked, sitting himself back up once his laughing fit settled down. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, but he didn't seem to notice it. "No, look at you: so angelic." He said, writing his name down on the form. "Here you are, and could you burn holes into the trousers of that templar that patrols the library? Do that for old Sweeney, won't you? The bastard's always giving me the stink eye."

She nodded at him, taking the form and pen back. "I'll see if I can manage that." She said, breathing out a sigh of relief as she turned and headed back towards the stockroom.

She looked over the form as she stepped into the room: Sweeney's signature was messy and nearly unreadable. Her mouth thinned, hopefully Owain would accept this. She brought her gaze back up when she stood before the said tranquil, and handed him the form without a word.

He looked it over; his face devoid of whatever he was thinking. "Everything looks to be in order," He said, looking up at her. He went into the stockroom a moment later, and came back out with the item she sought in his hand. "Here is the rod you requested."

She nodded slightly, and took it from him. "Thank you." She said, glad to have gotten this business over with. She then started making her way back to the Chantry, with no one stopping her this time. The halls seemed to become even quieter.

Fandes stopped before heading into the Chantry; this would be her last chance to change her mind. She really hated all this lying and skulking about in order to save her friend; even if she didn't like everyone in the Circle, family shouldn't deceive each other like this. But what choice did she have? Unforgiven by one or all? Her gaze hardened.

_They're all wrong._

And then she went in.

xx

Cullen awoke to a cacophony of metal footsteps outside of his chambers. Alarmed; he shot up in his bed, and fought a wave of dizziness as he grabbed for his sword. When had he fallen asleep, and how long was he out? His grip relaxed a bit when he saw Havel enter through his door. He tried to do so quietly, it seemed, but his armor made that very difficult to accomplish. Havel turned his attention to Cullen once the door was closed.

"I apologize, Cullen; I hadn't meant to awaken you." He said, staying in front of the closed door.

"It's no problem, Havel. Is something happening?" Cullen asked, laying his sword beside him for now.

"Greagoir is preparing us to capture Jowan; he expects that there will be resistance."

Cullen frowned thoughtfully. Jowan was Fandes' friend; how was she taking the news of his practicing of Blood magic? If she even knows about it, of course. Thinking of the elven mage made his chest hurt. "Is that why you're here?" He asked, pushing her from his mind for now.

Havel's face grew grim. "Yes and no: I believe that Jowan is planning to escape somehow, and that he's asked Fandes to assist him." He said gravely.

Cullen felt all the color drain from his face. "Is she?" Havel slowly nodded, and Cullen very nearly sunk into his bed. She could be killed for this; was it too late to try and stop her? He looked at Havel's face then, and his expression told Cullen that it was, indeed, too late. If only he hadn't slept…

"I know she believes that she's helping her friend from—in her mind—an undeserved fate, but she's too young and inexperienced to understand the danger he poses," Havel explained. "I've seen good intentioned mages fall from just the littlest taste of the power that Blood magic entails, Jowan is just as susceptible to that corruption as anyone else. And she either doesn't believe he's practicing it, or she believes it'll never corrupt him."

Cullen nodded. He's never seen blood magic at work before, he'd probably do the same thing in her shoes. But she didn't have someone like Havel to explain that to her, while Cullen did. And now the more Havel explained the situation to him, the more he realized he could've stopped this. He hung his head down solemnly, looking into the reflection of the room and the glint from a hanging torch on the blade in his lap.

"We've found out that they're in the phylactery chamber," Havel continued. "Greagoir wants us down there before they have a chance to leave the tower: he's going to have us execute Jowan, and Fandes, if she resists capture."

Cullen felt his heart clench, and he looked back up to Havel hopelessly. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked brokenly.

Havel walked over to him then, placing his plated hand on Cullen's un-armored shoulder. "Because if she sees you and Irving both down there, she may not have the heart to resist." Havel answered sadly. "She will be made tranquil if she doesn't attack." He paused for a moment, letting Cullen absorb this information. "I do not want to see the girl I brought to the tower all those years ago killed for misguidedly protecting her friend."

Cullen sat there for several minutes, and then nodded his head slowly. "I see. I'll be down there soon." He finally answered, his voice heavy with emotion. Havel looked at him sympathetically, and then he left him alone in his room. The cacophony of steps from earlier was gone now; replaced with a heavy silence broken only by Cullen's uneven breaths.

He suddenly let out a scream of rage, and threw his blade toward the far wall: where it hit and clanged noisily to the floor. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this useless. Now someone he cared for was either going to die or become emotionally neutered, and so soon after proving that those things weren't necessary for her. All because Jowan needed her help…

Jowan. _That idiot!_ Cullen seethed inwardly. Why did he have to include her in this plan of his? What even possessed him to practice blood magic in the first place? How selfish of him to do this to her; he should know that she wouldn't deny him happiness, even if it got her killed or punished in the process.

He placed his head in his hands, and tried to steady his breathing. Fandes was selfish too, in a way: she'd rather set a potentially dangerous blood mage free than see him as a tranquil within the tower, because she wouldn't stand to see him like that. Jowan was, in all honestly, her only friend here. And it seems she'd do anything for him; at the expense of the lives both in and outside of the tower. Would she do the same for Cullen? He didn't know.

He stood from his bed, flexing his shoulders as he walked to the stand holding his templar armor. He quickly began strapping it all on, and after several minutes he was finished. He opted to wear his helmet for this; he didn't want her to see his face at the moment. He walked over to the far wall that he threw his sword at and picked it up, it appeared he didn't damage it, but the wall had a small chunk of stone missing from it now. He shook his head and left his room, it was time to witness Fandes' fate in all of this.

He hoped he'd make a difference.

xx

Fandes didn't know what to expect when she, Jowan, and Lily all walked out of the phylactery chamber.

It certainly wasn't a group of angry templars.

"G-Greagoir." Lily stammered beside her, refusing to meet the Knight-commander's gaze.

"An initiate conspiring with a blood mage; I'm disappointed Lily." Greagoir accused, walking up to her and looking her over. "She seems shocked, but fully in control of her own mind." He stated with a frown, and walked back to the other templars, and Irving. "You were right, Irving: the initiate has betrayed us."

Then he brought his disapproving gaze over to Fandes. "And _this _one, newly a mage and already flouting the rules of the Circle." She kept her gaze down. She felt like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar, only the punishment that awaited her wasn't a rap on the knuckles.

"I'm disappointed in you," She heard Irving say, and she involuntarily flinched. "You could have told me what you knew of this plan, and you didn't." She wanted to look Irving in the eye and defend her decision to help Jowan, but she simply couldn't. She felt paralyzed.

"You don't care for the mages: you just bow to the Chantry's every whim!" Jowan said angrily beside her, causing her to look up at him.

"The First Enchanter does what he can to protect us." She argued weakly.

"Enough!" Greagoir commanded. "As Knight-commander of the templars here assembled: I sentence this blood mage to death. And this initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows: take her to Aeonar."

Fandes' eyes widened like saucers when she saw the templars pull out their blades and make their way towards them.

"The mage's prison? Please no, not there!" Lily said fearfully while backing against the wall. Jowan stepped between the templars and her, his face contorted in a rage that Fandes had never seen before on his features.

"No! I won't let you touch her!" He declared, pulling out a knife hidden in the folds of his robe.

And then he stabbed his hand.

Fandes backed against the wall behind her and squeezed her eyes shut when she felt a powerful force rise around Jowan. It was absolutely suffocating; she never felt anything like it before. She peaked open one eye in time to see him force the power over the group before them, knocking them all out cold. She let out a breath that she didn't realize she was holding, and she fell to her knee as a strange fatigue came over her. She glanced over to Lily, but the magic didn't seem to have any effect on her. Was Fandes merely more sensitive to it, or did Jowan try casting it on her too?

Lily looked at Jowan fearfully, backing away with every step he made towards her. "By the Maker, blood magic! How could you? You said you never-"

"I admit, I dabbled! I thought it'd make me a better mage!" Jowan interrupted her.

"Blood magic is evil Jowan, it corrupts people, changes them!"

Jowan took a step towards her. "I'm going to give it up, Lily! All magic! Just please, come with me!" He practically begged. Fandes looked away sadly; this was painful to watch.

Lily shook her head, stepping further away from him. "I trusted you… I was ready to sacrifice everything for you. I don't know who you are, blood mage, but _stay away _from me." She said bitterly. Jowan looked grief-stricken as he turned and ran for the halls that led outside.

Fandes, still feeling the effects of the spell, crawled over to Irving: she wanted to make sure he was alright. She should've attempted to escape with Jowan, but the fact that he just abandoned her without asking her to come along wouldn't leave her alone. He just left her to be punished alone; along with Lily. She was brought back from her thoughts when she noticed Irving stir.

"Are you alright? Where is Greagoir?" He asked her. She nodded that she was, and then she pointed at Greagoir, who was now stirring himself. She couldn't seem to formulate any words as she stood and pulled him up from the floor.

"I'm as good as can be expected, given the circumstances." Greagoir said as he made his way over to them. "If you had let me act sooner this would not have happened!" He accused. "Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down!"

"Yes," Fandes said lightly, her voice seemingly gone. "Jowan destroyed his phylactery."

Greagoir ignored her, instead looking around the room. "Where is the girl?" He asked, loudly enough for his voice to reverberate throughout the room.

"I-I am here, ser." Lily said as she walked closer to them.

"You helped a blood mage escape, look at all he's hurt." Greagoir accused, gesturing around to the other templars that were just getting to their feet.

Fandes began finding her voice, then. "You forced his hand; he wanted to protect her." She argued, that feeling from when she left Irving's office earlier slowly returning.

"Knight-commander, I was wrong; I was accomplice to a… a blood mage. I will accept any punishment you see fit, even… even Aeonar." Lily said brokenly.

"Get her out of my sight!" Greagoir barked, and a few templars scurried over and guided Lily out of the room. "And _you_." He said, glaring at Fandes. "You helped a blood mage escape, what are we to do with you?"

Fandes may have felt betrayed by Jowan leaving her here to be skewered, but she wouldn't regret helping him. She needed whatever strength she could muster for what was to come. "Do what you like; I stand by my decision to help Jowan." She stated defiantly, leveling a glare of her own at the Knight-commander.

He didn't like that one bit. "You helped a blood mage escape," He repeated angrily. "All of our prevention measures for naught, because of _you_."

Before she could say anything else; Duncan walked in, cutting through the building tension like a knife. "Knight-commander," He began, causing Greagoir to look at him in surprise. "I am not only looking for mages to join the king's army; I am also looking for recruits to join the Grey-wardens." Fandes widened her eyes at him, did that mean…?

"Duncan, this mage has assisted a maleficar, and shown no lack of regard for the Circle's rules." Irving argued, and Fandes felt herself bristle. She's followed the rules her entire life in the tower, and now that she's broken one—for a good cause—she's practically being disowned? By someone who was like a father to her the whole time? How many times was she going to be betrayed today?

_I probably broke a record, somewhere._ She thought bitterly. But then again, didn't she betray him too?

"It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need." Duncan said, brightening her mood a bit. At least _someone_ understood why she did this. "I stand by my decision: I will recruit this mage."

"No! I refuse to let this go unpunished!" Greagoir seethed. "A blood mage escapes, and not only does his accomplice go unpunished, but is rewarded by becoming a Grey-warden! Are our rules nothing? Have we lost all authority over our mages? This does not bode well, Irving."

"Enough, we have no more say in this matter." Irving sighed.

Fandes felt sadness wash over her then. She was saved, but now she would likely never see her home again. "So I am to be a Grey-warden?"

"Yes, be proud, child; you are luckier than you know." Irving said tiredly, he seemed relieved. Whether over her no longer able to cause trouble, or that she could live and be free, she wasn't sure. She hoped it was the latter.

"Thank you for everything, First Enchanter." She said sadly.

"Go ahead and pack a few essentials before we leave; I'll be waiting by the boats." Duncan said as he turned to leave. She nodded, and went to do just that.

Fandes was grateful that her things hadn't been moved up to the second floor yet; she couldn't stand all the looks the mages were giving her as she rummaged through her things. She only had a small rucksack to carry her things in, so she opted for packing a pair of small clothes, extra socks, and a small mabari doll that her mother made for her before she was taken to the Circle. She also grabbed and put on a rabbit-furred overcoat, since Ostagar was said to be the coldest part of Ferelden. Satisfied with her choices, she slung the sack over her shoulders and left the dormitories.

She never noticed the lone helmeted templar or his silent farewell.

But she still thought of him.


End file.
